


Falling Hard

by Thirdeyeblinkings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cockblocking hippogriff, EWE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY, Hagrid can't be bothered, M/M, canon divergent - not epilogue compliant, draco is a sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirdeyeblinkings/pseuds/Thirdeyeblinkings
Summary: Prompt from Axlhmora--She requested a magical beast pet/experience as a birthday gift for Harry from Draco, with a side of Draco facing his fear of said beast. This was so fun to write! Turned out quite fluffy :) Hope you like it!





	Falling Hard

"Agh, come on then, she's just a pup. She'll not warm up to yeh if you don' get a bit closer."

Hagrid squats on the floor of his hut while Draco hangs back, hugging the wall, hand poised for the door. "A pup? There is nothing _pup_ -ish about that menace," he says darkly. "It's the size of a bloody lion. And that beak could take my eyes out before I've had a chance to blink."

" _She_ ," Hagrid corrects. "Not _it_."

Draco rolls his eyes, which would be a pity to lose, come to think of it. One of his best features, or so he's been told. " _She_ , then. And I thought you said they started out small?"

"Did I?" Hagrid frowns. "Don' recall that. Anyhow, they do start out smaller, a bit. Grow mighty fast once they hatch, though. Don't you, Tulip?" He croons, tickling the hippogriff under her beak. She makes a noise halfway between a coo and a purr.

Of course the insufferable oaf has named it already. Draco groans. "Why coudn't I just get him an egg then? Much less fuss."

"Yeh think so, do yeh, Malfoy? Fancy stealing an egg from a Hippogriff nest? Nevermind yer eyes, you'd come back without that delicate face o' yers, and that's a fact." He shakes his head. "And 'Arry says you're bright!" He mutters.

Draco smiles briefly at the thought of Harry talking him up to Hagrid, but his every muscle is otherwise tensed, ready to retreat. He has to take a step forward. Just one step. He closes his eyes.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Hagrid cautions. "Hippogriffs take great offence to closed eyes."

Draco exhales through his teeth. "I thought you said they take great offence to eye contact!"

"No." Hagrid says firmly. "If I said it once, I said it a thousand times. They take offence to _lack_ of eye contact. Not a bloody Ravenclaw are yeh?"

Draco's jaw tightens. This is for Harry. For Harry. _Harry_. He recites the steps mentally: Step forward. Eye contact. Bow. Wait for response.

He can _do_ this. But his hand grips his wand just in case.

He shuffles one foot slightly forward. Tulip looks up from preening her feathers and eyes Draco with interest. He holds the gaze, breath shaking and heart pounding, bows low to the ground, then straightens up. Slowly. Then waits.

The hippogriff settles back onto her haunches.

"Hagrid?" Draco breathes out of the corner of his mouth. "What does sitting mean?"

Hagrid gapes in surprise. Before he can answer, Tulip fans out her wings and claws the air. Draco's eyes widen as he feels the blood drain from his face. _So this is the end of Draco Malfoy._ At least he and Harry had the shag of their lives last night . . .

"Son of a skrewt. Malfoy, I think she's . . . rather keen on yeh."

"Keen?" He squeaks out. Terribly undignified but not on his list of concerns at the moment.

Hagrid laughs. "Not teh worry, not teh worry. She won' be ready for matin' for another six months at least, I expect. But there is something about yeh she likes. Pains me as it does to say it."

"Mating?" Draco stutters. "You mean--she's--"

Tulip rises to a stand and plods over to where he is. He's can't move. Her beak is inches from his neck, which she then nips with something like affection.

"Ow!" He says, but it's only a reflex. In fact, it didn't hurt at all. It might've tickled. A little. Tulip uses that same beak to comb through his hair, gently, closing her glassy amber eyes and making the same sound as earlier with Hagrid, only much louder.

"Hagrid?" Malfoy yelps.

Hagrid settles down onto a chair by the fire. "Sorry Malfoy. Couldn't help yeh if I wanted to now." Draco gets the distinct impression that he does _not_ want to. "She's claimed yeh, and I quite like my face, plain as it is."

Anger drowns out his fear momentarily. "But what the FUCK! do I DO?"

"Wait," Hagrid says simply. "She'll let you go in a bit."

"And then?"

"And then you'll be free to leave."

Draco lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank Godric."

"As long as she can see you."

" _What_."

"They form strong attachments, hippogriffs. Don' like their favourites out o' their sight. You'll get used to it. Give it two, three weeks at the most, and you'll be able to leave her for a few hours at a time.

_Used to it? Three weeks? A few bloody hours?_

It was only moments ago that Draco's life flashed before his eyes. Now it stretches out in front of him, clouded by the shadow of an ever-present, possessive-as-fuck mythical beast. He should never have listened to Ron when he told him that Harry had always wanted one of these. Harry's 21st birthday or not, this was no time to lose his head. Why would he choose now to start listening to a Weasley? Why?

He ends up spending the night in Hagrid's hut, because Harry's birthday is tomorrow, and he has to keep the hippogriff a _secret_ , for fuck's sake, and anyway, she won't let him open the door to go home. At least Harry's spending the evening watching Teddy, so he won't wonder where Draco is. Oh, if Harry could see him now, reluctantly curled against Tulip's downy feathers on the bare floor. At least she's decently warm. And her snoring is somewhat endearing.

He wakes at dawn, doesn't have a choice. Tulip's affectionate pecking has turned more aggressive.

"Ugh, you ridiculous fowl, can't you at least keep human hours?" He mutters, rubbing his eyes in the half dark.

Tulip coos against him, then nudges him away from her with the shoulder of her wing.

"Oh, I see. It's like that, is it?" Draco raises an eyebrow. "Didn't take you for the love him and leave him type." He dusts himself off and squints at Hagrid, whose snores are still shaking the walls of the hut. "Be good, now. Hagrid will be awake soon, I'm sure." He reaches out to pat her beak without thinking. She gives a little squawk.

"Yes, yes, I'll miss you too," he says nervously, then tries again for the door. He's supposed to meet Harry, Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall for breakfast in a couple hours. It's Harry's birthday tradition. The school's empty during the summer, so they have the place to themselves for a quiet but robust celebration. The house elves outdo themselves every year. If he leaves now, he'll have time to shower and change and maybe find a bow large enough to tie around this "present" that he very much regrets buying. Tulip will be fine for a bit. Surely now--

But Tulip is no more ready to let him go now than she was last night. She rears up on her hind legs.

"Lovely. You do care." He slumps back down onto the floor. "But here's the problem, Tulip--" (Might as well address her properly, if he's losing his mind anyway.) "You are not mine. You are a gift. For someone very special."

She cocks her head to look at him sideways.

"Yes, yes, very special," he continues, then fumbles around in his trouser pocket and draws out a photo. "Do not--I repeat--do _NOT_ tell him I have this," he says sternly, but his expression quickly melts into a small, knowing smile. This is his favourite photo of Harry. Hermione took it, trying out her new muggle camera, while the two of them were playing a Seeker's game. Harry's just caught the snitch and is flying away from Draco, his head turned back to look at him and his face stretched into the widest, purest _shit-eating_ grin Draco's ever seen. That's when Draco fell. Hard. That was the day he knew he was utterly fucked. He's still staring down at it stupidly when Tulip plucks it from his hand.

"Oi! That's mine! Give it back!" He reaches for it vain as Tulip tucks it into her feathers and waggles her head back and forth to prevent him from retrieving it. "You saucy minx! Jealousy is not becoming, you know!" Completely unbothered, Tulip takes the scruff of his shirt in her beak and tosses him onto her back with one deft swing. Instinctively, he throws his arm around her neck.

"Hagrid! Wake up, you lazy sod!" He cries desperately. The enormous lump under the blankets does not stir. "Oh, for fuck's sake. What now?"

Tulip opens the door of the hut with an unceremonious kick from her hind leg, then pushes off from the ground, into the air. Draco squinches his eyes shut, cursing himself for being such a bloody idiot. And just where the hell is she taking him anyway? She flaps steadily and they rise higher and higher, until Draco has to open his eyes out of pure curiousity. They're circling the Hogwarts grounds, gliding over the lake, weaving between the towers, until finally they're hanging in midair above the Quidditch pitch.

Draco catches his breath. He has to admit, it wasn't all bad. Exhilarating, even, if he's honest. The wind in his face and the earth far below him--like flying a broom but faster and smoother. But that doesn't change the fact that he's been brought here against his will by a fucking horse-eagle with something to prove. The sun drenches the horizon in warm light. It's almost time for breakfast; the others have likely arrived by now.

"Alright then, Tulip." He pats her neck stiffly. "That was lovely. Thank you. But we really should be going now, you see . . ."

Tulip doesn't move, flaps silently, then buries her beak into her feathers and withdraws the photo, still perfectly in tact, to Draco's great relief. She doesn't fuss when he takes it back.

"Ah . . ." Draco says, finally understanding. "You are clever, aren't you? Yes, this is where he is, in the picture. But it's not where he is now."

Tulip huffs at him as if to say, "Now you tell me, stupid pretty human."

"I'm sorry," he smirks, "but it wasn't as if you told me what you were doing." He leans into her neck and points down to the windows of the Great Hall. "That's where he is now--"

Fuck. Wrong move. Tulip turns her head down and flaps in earnest while beelining for the very windows he pointed out. They're picking up speed. Too much speed.

"Merlin, Tulip--stop! _Heel!_ Buggery fucking--"

It's no good. He braces himself as they crash through the window, shattering glass all over the empty staff table. He looks up to see the speechless faces of Ron, Hermione, and Harry.

"Er . . . happy birthday?" He cracks a crooked smile, abandoning any pride he might have salvaged, and can hardly dismount before Harry is on his feet, standing before him, wearing that same smile. His favourite smile.

"Always have to make an entrance, don't you?" Harry says wryly, resting his hands on Draco's hips and kissing his jaw. "Could've just got me a card, you know."

"I know," Draco mumbles into Harry's ear. "But it was worth it."

"What?"

"The look on your face," he sighs and gestures to Tulip, who is now hovering over Ron's plate, inspecting his toast. "Weasley said you always wanted one."

Harry wheels around to face Ron, who's turned tomato red, convulsing with laughter.

"Ron," Harry growls. "Not on, mate."

Realisation dawns on Draco as Harry tightens his grip on him and whispers, "I'll make up for this, I promise," pressing a hard kiss to his lips and cupping his arse.

"Bloody hell," Ron groans, staring at the ceiling.

"Serves you right, Weasley," Draco sneers as he leans into Harry.

A deafening squawk shatters the rest of the windows in the hall as Tulip barrels into the two of them, knocking them both off their feet. Draco finds Harry straddled on top of him, glasses crooked on his nose, laughing at Tulip and stroking her beak. Draco sighs again. He falls harder every time.

Yep, he's still utterly fucked, only now there's a hippogriff in the way.


End file.
